


The F-Team

by Lenore



Category: Smallville
Genre: Crack, Future Fic, Humor, M/M, Rift
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-08-27
Updated: 2011-08-27
Packaged: 2017-10-23 03:21:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,246
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/245741
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lenore/pseuds/Lenore
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Fairies have to keep Lex and Clark on track.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The F-Team

**Author's Note:**

> My apologies to Dr. Seuss!

It was an ordinary Wednesday morning in Fairy Land. The sun was shining a warm violet. The pink oogalala trees stirred gracefully in the gentle breeze. Fairy moms, enjoying the fine weather, took their fairy children to play on the jumping jooberjinks in Fairy Land Park. Even fairy businessmen stopped to smell the rositootskers on their way to work.

At Fairy Central, the staff members sat at their consoles, monitoring the Great Order, keeping human destinies on track, as they drank their morning cups of spriggleneuse and enjoyed jelly-filled crumcrullers. (All except the few fairies watching their waistlines, who chewed sugarless gum instead, rather unhappily—it was no substitute for a good crumcruller.)

But before even the first box of crumcrullers had been finished, a loud siren filled the complex. The lower-level technicians stared at one another in befuddlement. Not one of them had been around long enough to remember the last time the imbalance alarm had gone off.

A moment later, the PA system blared, "F Team to the control room. We have a Code Purple! F Team to the control room."

Gargamella, a junior assistant watch-fairy, leaned in to her slightly less junior co-worker and asked, "What does that mean?"

"It means humans are in _big_ trouble," he whispered.

In the control room, Hugor the Fairy Boss paced restlessly in front of his desk. His assistants, twin Pixelnik sprites with gold eyes and feathery wings, fluttered around him, trying to offer him steaming cups of freshly brewed spriggleneuse and gooey chocolate-covered ramadingdings. Pixelnik sprites believed there were few problems that could not be solved with food. But Hugor waved them away. As much as he usually enjoyed his ramadingdings, it was impossible to think about eating at a time like this.

A Code Purple! On his watch. How had this happened?

The F Team came hurrying through the doors. They were his most elite squad of intervention-fairies, who had put right many imbalances in the past. He could only hope they'd be able to straighten out the mess these two recalcitrant mortals were creating before they managed to turn the Great Order into a complete shambles.

"What've we got, Boss?" asked Chirpple, the Friendship Fairy, unofficial leader of the F Team.

"I'm afraid it's bad," Hugor said. He nodded to his assistants who turned on the bank of view screens.

The F Team settled at the conference table and watched the live feed from the mortal realm. There were two men—a tall dark-haired one in a colorful costume and cape and a sleek bald one in a white linen suit.

"Oh, the dark one is so pretty. And the bald one so sexy," Melusina purred, her iridescent wings fluttering. She was a delicate, wispy creature, made of white light and fairy dust, and her work as the Forgiveness Fairy gave her a sympathetic view of mortals.

"Unfortunately, they're both dimwits," Hugor said. "Watch."

The two mortals battled mightily. The dark, pretty one was exceptionally strong, endowed with superhuman powers, but the bald, sexy one was quite clever and boasted an arsenal of ingenious weapons.

"Aren't they supposed to be the mortal embodiments of good and evil, locked in endless struggle?" asked Divilisk, the Fame Fairy.

"No!" Hugor said. "That's what they think, but they've gotten it all wrong." He sighed. "You see, there was a cave drawing."

The F Team groaned.

Hugor waved his hand. "Yes, yes, I know. But we can't blame our predecessors for their less-than-scientific methods. Balance-keeping is an evolving field. At the time, Fairy-kind believed cave drawings could be an effective way to give hapless mortals a clue."

"Weren't they all supposed to have been recalled, like, twenty years ago?" asked Chirpple.

Hugor nodded. "But there were so many, and unfortunately the records weren't complete. This one fell through the cracks."

"Can we see it?" asked Kloomsvelda, the Fortune Fairy.

"Certainly." Hugo typed into the keyboard, and the image popped onto one of the screens.

The F Team murmured in confusion.

"Two heads on one body, and they somehow got enemies out of that?" Chirpple said.

"It's pure sex," said Divilisk, staring at the picture. "What do these two need to get the point? A neon sign flashing: _Get naked now!_?"

Hugor sighed. "Apparently. Like I said, dimwits. The worst part is that they were once best friends. But after seeing these idiot cave drawings and some other unfortunate happenings, they developed this ridiculous rift that just keeps getting worse and worse."

"But why is this so important? I mean, a Code Purple?" Kloomsvelda said.

Just at that moment the bald mortal fired a green ray at the dark-haired one, sending him sailing through the air and into a nearby building, which promptly collapsed.

Kloomsvelda turned pink with embarrassment. "Okay. Never mind."

"Not to mention that the heat these two will give off with their steamy man sex is supposed to be an important alternative energy source for the future," Hugor explained.

"Ah!" the F Team said collectively.

Fairies were environmentalists, and phasing out fossil fuels was a project dear to their hearts.

"So what's our plan?" asked Chirpple.

"They both hold deep grudges against the other," Hugor said. "Let's start with Melusina."

Melusina stood up, her head held high, her expression very serious. "I'll do my best, Boss." She went through the door that led to the mortal realm, and the rest of her team watched the monitors intently.

The mortals were still fighting, going from rooftop to alleyway, sending the city's terrified populace fleeing, leaving mayhem and millions of dollars in property damage in their wake. Melusina flitted after them. She moved in close and touched both men with her wand, sprinkling them with fairy dust.

"If you think I'm ever going to forgive you, then you're crazier than I thought," said the dark one.

"Forgive you? You're the one who turned on me," the bald one insisted.

They lunged at each other, and in the process, sent Melusina flying into a nearby brick wall. A moment later, she staggered back through the door, her face smudged, hair awry, one shiny wing bent.

"They're horrible!" she wailed. "The sexy one is so stubborn. And the pretty one might mean well, but he's still a menace." She sobbed, and Divilisk put his arm around her to comfort her.

"There, there, Melusina," Hugor said, gently. "We knew it was going to be a tough job, but I'm sure you softened them up for the next fairy."

Melusina sniffed. She didn't appear convinced.

Hugor turned to Chirpple. "They once meant a lot to one another. We need to remind them of that friendship."

Chirpple nodded. He took a deep breath and headed through the door.

The mortals had moved their shenanigans to the sky. The pretty one could fly, and the sexy one had some kind of contraption strapped to his back that kept him aloft. Chirpple held up his enchanted hat, and it lifted him into the air.

He floated into position between them and waved his hat, releasing a starburst of memory magic, stronger than the fairy dust Melusina had used.

But the pretty one only glowered. "I still remember that creepy room of obsession you had back in the castle. You were supposed to be my friend, and the whole time you were spying on me like a, a—creepy obsessed person."

"It was a *research facility*, thank you very much. And you were hardly worth the time and expense I put into it. But, hey, if we're going to travel down memory lane, let's not forget how you accused me of trying to kill my own father, when you supposed to be _my_ best friend. "

They glared and then leaped at each other, and sadly, Chirpple wasn't expecting it. He got caught in the middle, and the rest of the F Team groaned as they watched him struggle to get out from between the large, flailing human bodies. He finally managed to make it back through the door, limping and somewhat flattened.

Kloomsvelda helped him into a chair. One of the Pixelnik sprites pressed a restorative cup of spriggleneuse into his hand, and he began to fill out again, returning to three-dimensional form.

"Why don't we just banish them to Nowhereland?" he suggested, when he could speak again. "At least there, they won't do any damage to anyone else."

"We could do that," Hugor said. "But think of all the pollution-free energy they'd generate if we could just properly channel their feelings for one another." His expression was thoughtful. "It's time to call in the big gun."

The F team stared at him in amazement. Calling in the big gun was a big deal.

"We really don't have a choice." He hit the red panic button on his console.

"Yeah?" a disinterested voice answered.

"Um. We could use your help. Can you come to the control room?"

A heavy sigh. "I suppose so."

"It's rather an emergency."

"Yeah. Yeah."

The intercom clicked off. The clock ticked as long fairy minutes went by, and the F Team waited expectantly. But the big gun never got in a big hurry.

Finally, she appeared—Bertha, the Fornication Fairy. A good head taller than any other fairy in all of Fairy Land, she had wild salt-and-pepper hair that stuck out at odd angles. She wore heavy eyeliner and shockingly red lipstick that was smudged in a rather suggestive fashion. Her leather skirt was short, her black tights had holes in them, and her Doc Martens looked like they had done some serious asskicking in their day. She always carried a pack of smokes rolled up in the sleeve of her white T-shirt.

Nobody even jokingly called her the Fucking Fairy, not if they knew what was good for them.

She put her hands on her hips. "Okay. Which two mortals are supposed to be doing it?"

Hugor pointed to the screen. "You see, their true destiny is to be allies and lovers—"

Bertha waved her hand. "Whatever. You want them to screw, they'll screw."

She tromped off through the door. The team watched curiously. It wasn't often they got to see Bertha at work.

It became clear she was not one to waste time. She marched purposefully over to the mortals, her Doc Martens throwing up a cloud of dust. She took out her charmed crow bar and clubbed both men over the head. Apparently, she was also not one for subtlety.

She tore an opening in space/time with the sharp end of her crowbar and manhandled the mortals into the portal. They reappeared in a quiet bedroom with a very large, soft-looking bed. Bertha pushed the two dazed men onto it. A few quick flicks of her crowbar, and they were naked. She waved her crowbar again and sent hot sparks of wakefulness over them. They opened their eyes.

Groggy murmurs turned to "ohs" of surprise and then transformed into much huskier sounds. Bertha lingered a moment just to make sure the magic had really taken, but the room was soon filled with slurping, begging and other noises that confirmed she had indeed been successful. She disappeared, leaving a trail of condoms, lube and erotic toys in her wake, everything the mortals would need.

A second later, she trudged back through the door, flung herself onto Hugor's sofa, and lit a cigarette. She took a deep drag and blew smoke rings into the air. Clearly, it had been good for her, too.

On screen, the two mortals rolled around together, the way they were meant to.

Hugor shifted a little awkwardly in his seat. "Well, I suppose our work here is done." He started to turn off the view screen.

Just at that moment, though, the pretty one cried out, "Oh, Lex!"

"God. Clark," the sexy one moaned.

Hugor hesitated, his finger hovering over the "off" button.

"I don't see how the pretty one fits something that big into his skimpy little costume." Melusina stared, her eyes wide.

"And he doesn't seem to need to breathe," Chirpple said.

"What about the sexy one?" Divilisk tilted his head. "Can humans really bend like that without breaking?"

Hugor cleared his throat. "I'm not sure it's appropriate for us to—"

Four pairs of eyes fastened on him pleadingly. Only Bertha didn't really seem to care. She'd seen it before, after all.

"They're hot enough to light entire cities," Kloomsvelda reminded him.

The Pixelnik sprites broke out bottles of spinklelork and passed around platters of delicious grumblenort sandwiches. Any excuse for a party was all they ever needed.

"Well—" Hugor wavered.

On screen, the sexy one screamed, "Oh, God! Yeah. Right there, right there."

Hugor glanced at his watch. "It is almost lunch time. You know, in three hours." He sat back down. "Besides this is research."

"Yeah, research," Chirpple said.

"You can never be too prepared," Divilisk agreed.

"We may be faced with this situation again sometime," Kloomsvelda said wisely.

"And I really am curious to see how they're going to use that thing with the feathers." Melusina squinted at the screen. The others stared at her. "What? You know you're thinking it, too."

They all had to nod, rather sheepishly. No doubt the thing with the feathers would prove quite interesting.

The F Team helped themselves to sandwiches and drained their glasses of spinklelork as they watched the two gorgeous, if not terribly bright, mortals fulfill their destiny at last.


End file.
